RWBY June Art Challenge
by Gone Rampant
Summary: Remnant's land of infinite chance and possibility. Here's a few of those tales. Some are romantic, some are tragic, some even try to be funny. Prompts came from the RWBY June Art Challenge. Cross posted from Archive of Our Own.
1. Favorite Character: Amber

_**RWBY June Art Challenge Chapter 1**_

 **Back at the start of June, I began doing the RWBY June Art Challenge over on Ao3. Here's those chapters for the viewing audience at home.**

* * *

When Amber first received the Fall Maiden powers, she burned a forest down.

Oz and Qrow would later explain it- something about how the powers worked and the seasons from which they drew power meant that Winter and Spring had much more subdued awakenings, while Fall and Summer were vibrant, needing to release the newfound energy that they possessed. But at the time, Amber knew nothing about literal myths come to life, or decades-old conspiracies built around protecting those myths and preserving the masquerade. She was just a normal student of Shade Academy in her third year, out in the woods.

It had been just another day, on just another mission in the forests near Vacuo's border. Amber was alone since the rest of the team had come down with various illnesses, and it was decided (Mostly for Amber's mental health and to avoid her getting infected) that the risk of a case of the sniffles compromising the operation was too high. And so, Amber found herself making her way silently through the forest, wiping her brow for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. Much as she adored her green cloak, it may not have been a good idea to bring it on this day, with the sun hanging in the sky, the wind refusing to blow through and the tree canopy keeping the heat inside the forest. It was a truly sweltering day, and the forest was dry and humid. As much as Amber adored nature and the woods, and as thankful as she was for this rare chance to go alone and just enjoy the forest in silence... some days were not designed to be outside in.

And Amber was allowed to bitch about heat- she was from Vacuo, a desert nation. Much like how those from Atlas were the resident experts on complaining about the cold, Vauco natives were the only people who were allowed to seriously say that a day was too hot.

She was broken out of her train of thought by something flying overhead, catching her eye purely because it seemed to have the energy to move through this humid heat that made her want to find a tree with long, reaching branches and take a nap. It looked like a beam of golden light that was shooting through the sky. And yet, it seemed primarily... aimless. Like it was flying at random, unable to decide where it wanted to go. But regardless, Amber did notice with a slight twinge of apprehension that it was going lower and lower, now equal to the tips of the trees... and it was coming closer.

On the first day of training at Shade Academy, each student was forced to fight an entire team of students from at least a year above them. Amber had been unlucky enough to draw the short straw, and had to fight an actual teacher. The point of the exercise was to learn that not every fight could be won and that, as was highlighted by the open door leading out of the classroom, there was no shame in running. In running, you could change the battlefield to a locale of your choice, allowing you to highlight your strengths and minimize your weaknesses.

That lesson ran through Amber's head as she saw the streak of gold energy drifting closer, before she turned on her heel and started running. She could fight Grimm, and she could fight people. But floating gold orbs of potential death were not on that list for a reason.

She vaulted over a tree, her shadow elongating as the light grew closer. Despite the suffocating heat she pushed through it and ran like the wind, cloak billowing behind her and hood falling off the top of her head. But as fast as she was, she was but one person holding up the cogwheels of destiny, however temporarily. And destiny always finds a way to keep the wheels rolling.

The energy flowed in front of her, manifesting into a singular golden sphere the size of her heart. She tried to redirect, but too little too late, and she ran straight into the sphere, lodging it in her chest. Despite the humid heat of the forest, it began to burn, hotter than Amber had ever felt before.

She fell onto her back, hands scrambling along the dirt for purchase on anything to hold as the heat turned searingly painful, like a hot poker was being shoved down her throat and taking all the moisture within as it did. A gold flash behind her eyes made her shut them momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips. More of those damnable streaks of energy flew around her, almost like a barrier. They began to speed up, like they were waiting for a chance to explode outwards.

Amber's eyes snapped open, her eyes shrouded in that energy. She screamed herself hoarse, as her world became one of fire and pain.

* * *

She came to slowly, nose filled with the smell of embers lingering in the air. Her ears still rang, the low echo of crackling wood echoing through the empty space. Amber looked around, dread settling in the depths of her stomach as she was met with the sight of blackened tree stumps. Where once there was nearly every shade of green imaginable, there was now just grey soil and black stumps as far as her eyes could see, barring a circular patch she was lying in.

Her hands went to her mouth as she tried to choke back a sob. This had to all be one giant nightmare. She'd wake up soon and tell her team about it, they'd all get a laugh out of it before Cerise would say something dumb and Amber would shut her up by kissing her-

"This wasn't your fault."

She wheeled around, turning to find a man with dark hair, red eyes and a white shirt staring sadly at her from one of the stumps. He held a canteen in his hand, held loosely by his hip.

"I..." she started to talk only to begin coughing hoarsely, throat desperate for water. The man darted forward, holding out the canteen.

"Here. You need this more than I do."

A voice in the back of Amber's mind pointed out that this screamed 'bad idea,' given how this could easily be poisoned, but that was stamped out by the furious, burning thirst that demanded to be sated. She snatched it out of the man's hand and gulped it down, not even breathing for a few minutes as she drained it dry. She handed it back.

"I..." she felt at her throat. "How long have I been out?"

"I dunno, only came across you a few minutes ago. My scroll's been telling me that this forest went up in smoke about thirty-six hours ago."

Part of her latched on to that- why would he be wandering around? "God. Did I... Did I do this?"

He fixed her with a sad look. "Would you prefer if I lie?"

Amber exhaled. "I'm not a child. Just give it to me straight."

"Then yes, you did this." He put a hand on Amber's shoulder as she let out a sob. "But you didn't mean to. You drew the short straw on the roulette wheel of life, kid, and now you've got some powers that people are gonna try to kill you over. There's someone who can explain everything, but you'll need to come with me." He drew himself up. "My name's Qrow. I'm here to help you."

"I was on a mission," Amber said quietly. "for my school. If I go with you, will I be able to contact them?"

"..." Qrow's silence said it all.

Amber sighed, swallowed down her tears, and grabbed her staff. She checked her cape, and picked herself up. "How far is this person who can answer my questions?"

"Beacon."

"And how important are these... powers?"

"The fate of the world may or may not be resting on keeping those powers out of the hands of some bad people."

She took in the forest around her, the dead twigs crunching underfoot. "Can they teach me to control the powers? So I don't ever do this to anyone again?"

"Yeah, he can. And he'll do his damnedest to keep you alive."

"Then I'll take that chance. Let's get going." She was still speaking quietly, just audible over the sounds of the forest, but her shoulders had set and her eyes had hardened. Qrow nodded, and the two took off.

"You said your name was Qrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Amber. What can you tell me yourself about all this stuff yourself?"

He drew in a breath, exhaled. "What's your favorite fairytale?" He finally asked after a moment of silence.

* * *

 **OK, so honesty corner. Amber's not really my favorite character in RWBY- I don't actually know who it is, but my money's on Qrow or Torchwick. Thing is? Both of them are likely going to show up down the line since I already have most of the dates sketched out as to each prompt, so I felt it redundant to give one of them two focus stories. Ergo, I went down the list, and Amber was near enough to the top that I shrugged and went "Why not?"**

 **Though I do have to give Rooster Teeth credit when it came to Amber- I find it amazing how much I like her as a character given she had all of six minutes of screentime outside of a tube. Chalk it up to a stellar design and fantastic fight scene that actually made me feel bummed out when that bitch in the red dress shot her.**

 **Anyway, June 2nd requires a snip on Team RWBY. And I don't know about you? But I feel like a trip to the opera's in order.**


	2. Team RWBY Character: Weiss

_**RWBY June AC Chapter 2**_

Weiss had very few positive memories of her childhood. Much of her life before Beacon could be surmised as cold and sterile, particularly after Winter abandoned her inheritance and left to join the Specialists. Even before the White Fang began their terror attacks on the SDC and her family, making her father resemble the ice fields that adorned Atlas more and more each and every day, the Schnee house was not one where laughter and joy were commonplace.

She remembered when she was ten; Winter was home and her father was away on a business trip, prompting her mother to organize a trip for the Schnee siblings and Klein to a local opera. Weiss had several reasons to remember the trip, one of which being the freak heatwave that had ravaged Atlas for that winter. The style at the time for members of high society was traditionally fur-lined coats that reached to the kneecaps, but judging by the both the sparseness of coats in the coat-rack room, and the board expression of the employee who took Klein and Whitley's jackets, no one had brought their coats with them tonight. The other was that, thinking honestly to herself, this was one of those very few positive memories she did cherish. No White Fang, no SDC politics, no Jacques... just her, Winter, Whitney, her mother and Klein out for a night at the theater.

They were escort to the near top of the opera hall, seats that granted a view over much of the hall and prevented any large heads from obstructing vision. Klein sat with Whitley on his lap, enrapturing the young boy with a near endless stream of stories whispered into his ear to help him with all the events that the young boy would not have to care for (Or at least look like he cared) for another few years. Willow had the center-most seat, flanked by several guards, while Weiss and Winter were to the right.

Weiss had a fondness for music, and the orchestra danced and soared with the opera singers; the cellos and sopranos, the war-drums and the basses, the flutes and tenors. Every note was tonally perfect, every movement staged and practiced so many times it had transcended muscle memory. Yet in spite of how practiced and fluid these technicians were, it did not feel staged or soulless.

There was but one problem. It was in the old tongue, one of the old languages Atlas had used before a common language had been settled on following the Great War. While Weiss could see how much work had gone into this production, the countless hours spent mastering the dances and reading the music, it irked her young mind throughout the first several acts that she could not understand the story or themes and solidify her appreciation for it.

At the interval, Weiss felt slight tap on the shoulder; Winter looked over at her, a slight frown on her features. "Is something wrong? You seem to be lost in thought."

"It's nothing important. Nothing worth speaking of."

Winter gave her what Weiss mentally referred to as her Big Sister Look, or as Ruby would later call it in the years to come, the 'I know you're trying to bullshit me, but I've been in your spot before so it isn't going to work,' Look. "Weiss, I don't appreciate being humored."

"I... of course. My apologies."

That Weiss had grown so formal in Winter's absence seemed to make her look away for a second, muttering something under her breath. She regained her composure. "Please Weiss. There's no harm in just speaking with me, the interval will last for a few more minutes."

"I..." she relented. "I don't like that I cannot understand the singers. They put so much passion into their performance, all of the performers are operating at peak efficiency, but... I wish to know what they sing of that unites all of these musicians together." She tried to make a dismissive waving gesture. "I'm still enjoying myself, Winter. It's nothing to get worked up about."

"That is what bothers you?"

"You see? What a trivial matter to get agitated over."

"Well, I can translate it for you. Not the whole thing, of course, but I can send you a translation of the script when we return home. And I speak enough that I can surmise the plot up to now."

"Oh?" She sat up straight in her seat. "Well, if it isn't too much trouble, Winter..."

She trailed off awkwardly, but Winter simply smiled. "It's no trouble at all. Now, you remembered the woman in stark white with the red sash?"

Weiss nodded.

"She is the mother of the rest of the main cast- with the yellow, purple and black sashes that wear their hair to the side. She worries that her husband, the king of a land, is becoming a corrupt tyrant that will take his rage out on his children. Thus, she begins to teach them in secret and inspire them to one day take power from their father and restore peace to the land."

Weiss was a more simple soul then. Not quite old enough to fully grasp the world around her, but still sharp enough to grasp what was right in front of her. "Oh," she whispered. "But then why would mother-" the penny dropped, and Weiss exhaled a quiet "ah," that carried much in the monosyllabic sound.

Winter merely nodded as Klein returned with Whitley, right before the curtains rose and the show began anew, now with Weiss enraptured as Winter loosely translated the plot as it occurred. She cried at the tragedies, suppressed her laughter at the comedic moments, and rose with the audience to grant the crew an encore. Even her mother was smiling as they left the theater.

Winter, true to her word, bought her the book the next day, and Weiss spent the day reading it in her room, her mind recreating the music as best as it could.

The next day, she wore her ponytail on the side and asked if she could receive lessons on singing.

* * *

 **I feel like Weiss is going to be the under-appreciated member of RWBY for day 2 at least in the circle of artists I follow, so I threw her a bone. Weiss may in fact be my favorite RWBY team member regardless, so this was an easy choice. I do feel it's a little short though, so sorry. But I guess better than being a little too short than going too long and into too much detail... at least that's what I'm telling myself.**

 **Anyway, June 3rd will cover a member of JNPR. And I feel like going a little AU for tomorrow...**


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